


House Blend

by sexpilus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Canon-Typical Violence, Content may be explicit in the future, M/M, Mako has a pig, Slow Burn, Stay tuned for friendship building, Story will switch pov, Thats an important tag, The series of events that turn them into the dynamic duo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:39:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexpilus/pseuds/sexpilus
Summary: Jamison Fawkes tries to figure his life out while working at a local Kofi Aromo. He's trying to be good, but his attraction to danger and his chaotic past put him in some tight places. Let's see if Mako can help.





	1. Hot Chocolate

It was a steady day at Kofi Aromo- it usually was, but as day shifted to evening the customers became more sporadic and the mood became more playful. It was why Jamie liked working nights, and it was an especially good night because it was the dream team closing: Hana, Lúcio, himself, and Gabriel as their closing manager. 

Hana was leaving the earliest that night, and was minutes away from freedom. The thought cheered the girl to no end, and Jamie could tell as she became more and more amped up as the time crept on. Lúcio absolutely fed off of her energy and raced around at full speed, laughing and yelling with abandon. The close would be quick and easy that night, and Jamie was thankful a million times over that things had ended up this way. 

Lúcio and Hana had quickly inserted themselves in Jamie’s life to become his closest friends since he started working at Kofi. They gave him a life outside of work that he honestly didn't have before. Once they realized he was a hard worker, it didn't take long for them to accept him there, and from then on the friendly duo were always inviting him places. He still wondered endlessly why those two, so vastly different from him, accepted him and all of his weirdness so willingly.

His relationship with Gabriel, however, had a much more rocky start. Early on in their time together they were always blowing up at each other, and sometimes they still did, but somehow Gabriel had become a damn father figure to Jamie- though he'd die before he admitted that to anyone. It was the man's own fault anyways. He attracted wayward souls to nurture as if he were a bloody saint. 

On this particular night one of his wayward souls was leaning over a counter watching Gabriel work. It was always entertaining when Jack came to see Gabe. Their bickering was amusing enough, but tormenting Jack became a team sport that even Gabriel stooped to playing with the younger employees. 

Gabriel looked up from his money count specifically to catch Jack staring, and Jamie watched with loud laughter as Jack became embarrassed.

Jack retreated from Gabe to follow Jamie around casually while Jamie cleaned the café. Jack talked with him privately pretty often, seemed to take a special interest in making sure he was staying out of trouble. Jamie didn't feel very guilty with a white lie here and there though. He wasn't doing anything horribly illegal… at least, he was pretty sure.

“Doing anything interesting this week?” Jack asked, knowing from Gabe’s stories that if Jamie’s schedule was blank he was bound to be getting into trouble.

Jamie appeased the man only because he knew that Jack meant no harm in the invasions of privacy. Still, he couldn't tolerate being patronized, and usually ended up fighting when the topic turned to his wellbeing.

“Lúcio has a big event going on this week, gonna pop in for that. Hana is doing some streaming and needs a character like m’self,” he said with a dramatic flourish, “to bounce some comedy gold around.” Jack nodded as Jamie spoke.

“Not getting lonely are ya?” He asked with a seriousness that put Jamie on edge and made him tap his foot nervously. Fidgeting was something he did a lot of, but it was blatant fidgeting like that that always ended up blowing his cover. ‘Course he was lonely. He worked in a coffee shop with no solid guarantee on his future. Surrounded by people like Hana and Lúcio who were already rising stars and bound to leave the place within a few years. Question number two and he was already getting pissed off. 

“Jack!” Gabriel yelled so suddenly they were both startled. “Leave the interrogation for after work. I plan on leaving exactly fifteen minutes early, and I can't do that if the swamp eared fool isn't paying attention to the fact that we have six minute wait times in the drive through.” Jamie cackled and stuck his tongue out at Jack before scurrying off around the counter. Gabe had, probably knowingly, brought him out of worrying about a terrifyingly unknowable future, and back to his favorite state: the present. It was a much easier place to be, and he was thankful for the relief.

Gabe spoke to Jack quietly, but the conversation was definitely meant to be overheard. Jamie and Gabe both knew that ‘swamp ear’ referred to the fact that Jamie had very selective hearing, but a discussion about him always gives him pause. “Give him some space to figure it out. He doesn't do well under threat of discipline.” Gabe knew from experience that Jamie could be a ticking time bomb under pressure and scrutiny. The feeling of being caged by someone just made him want to rebel even further. 

Jamie shrugged off the conversation, assumed his position, and drummed his fingers on the counter impatiently. He hated taking orders. Waiting for the customers. Waiting for the drinks. Waiting for the food. He would rather be scrubbing toilets than at the drive thru order screen. His headset dinged and he readied an entertaining greeting to distract his mind from that minor drama, hoping to get a good laugh from Hana and Lúcio.

“Welcome to Kofi Aromo, how can I rock your world?” He barely stifled a giggle as Lúcio shook his head with a look of pain, and Hana groaned loudly at his greeting. Surprisingly, the customer let out a laugh of his own, and Jamie’s attention snapped back to the order screen. Usually his greetings aren't picked up on by under caffeinated and impatient customers, so to get an entire laugh made Jamie smile from ear to ear. He was properly giddy from the validation. 

“Small hot chocolate.” the man rumbled, and if Jamie wasn't excited enough before, the deep bass of the man’s voice did him in. His smile twitched as he tried to maintain composure on the drive thru camera. 

He didn't normally attempt a sales pitch as they failed the vast majority of the time, but he wanted to milk this conversation for all it was worth. “Sure thing, mate. Can I getcha anythin’ else? Maybe a warmed up chocolate croissant for a sweet ending?” He chewed on his lip briefly hoping the sales push would lead to further interaction, and then blanched as he pieced together the innuendo behind what he just said. Hana practically screeched with laughter. Lúcio was doubled over beside him. 

Jamie threw his hands at his face with an audible smack.

There was a silent pause before he heard a loud snort of laughter. “Sold.” That voice made his knees go weak, and it took everything he had to not melt to the floor. 

His voice pitched up about an octave. “Alright! I'll meetcha at the window with the goods!” He jammed the camera button off and threw himself down on the dirty floor. One hand clutching his chest and the other over his flushed face. “I fuckin’ bombed!” he gasped dramatically.

Gabriel looked up lazily from his paperwork. “Language.” This solicited a louder groan from Jamie. “And get off the damn floor. Unless you wanna call this your last ten.”

Jamie wailed weakly and rose to his knees, face impossibly red. “Aw, hell, I can't even look at him after that” he groaned, looking up at Lúcio who nodded in agreement with a face that was scrunched up in empathetic discomfort. 

“That was embarrassing, man.”

“I can't believe you're getting all flared up over just a voice!” Hana called, while continuing to make drinks. “He sounded pretty mean to me, but maybe that was part of the attraction?” She threw a suggestive glance over her shoulder, and Jamie sure as hell caught the cat like grin on her face.

“Oi, gimme some privacy and say it over the headset, will ya!”

Lúcio pressed the headset close to his mouth, sounding far more inside Jamie’s ear than he ever wanted. “I bet you'll give him a sweet ending,” he drawled out, and Jamie howled with embarrassment. He flailed his limbs on the floor, and covered his face with the bottom of his apron, relishing physically blocking out the mortifying situation.

“Apron up and ready!” Hana announced loudly, and the two of them burst into laughter until they were wiping away tears.

“Throw that croissant in, Jamison, and get off the damn floor,” Gabriel seethed, and Jamie took it as a good ole ‘pull yourself together’ from the guy. He dragged himself off the floor, and hopped over to the pastries, debating his next move. Should he even bother at this point? He shook the doubt off immediately. Life was too short to not find out if the man matched the voice. Having solved his inner turmoil quickly, he used the rest of the time he had preparing the croissant to think on revenge against his still laughing friends. 

The timer beeped, and Jamie sprung back into action. He charged back over to the drive thru with renewed determination. “Outta the way, Lúcio! I'm goin’ in for the kill.” Lúcio threw his hands up, still barely continuing little fits of laughter, and slid over to the order screen as the man tottered by. 

“Good luck!” Hana giggled, barely keeping it together, and quickly falling behind on her drink times. 

Jamie tapped his foot anxiously as the car rolled up slowly. A van. Pretty old and beat up. The window rolled down, and Jamie opened his simultaneously. A wide grin split across his face. The man was huge, and Jamie wondered what impossible height the guy must tower to. The large van seemed dwarfed by the man in every sense, and Jamie got a little claustrophobic for the guy. 

Jamie was positive he stopped breathing as he took the sight of the gruff, long haired man in. “G’day!” he managed to croak out. “It'll be six fifty-two!” The man wore large aviators that made Jamie itch for a good look behind them, and a sick mask covered his face even further. His hair, silky and white was pulled into a high ponytail. And beyond that Jamie had not much left to stare at besides the man’s arms, which were ridiculously muscular. If he had less self control he would be swooning. 

The man reached out an impossibly large arm, dotted in freckles and moles, and Jamie was fixated on the huge hand. Touching hands with strangers during money exchange was an inevitably, and Jamie made sure that it would be completely unavoidable. Calloused and warm. He almost exploded into a giggling fit right there. 

He hurriedly tapped the numbers into the computer and then heard something he wasn't expecting. Soft squealing came from the car, and Jamie rocked back on his heels and peered out the window. The tiniest piglet he had ever seen (maybe the only pig he had ever seen) was climbing it's way across the vast belly in the driver seat and squirming excitedly in the man's steady arms. 

“A pig!” He exclaimed with wide eyes. “Is it your pet?” Jamison felt Lúcio grab his shoulder and crane himself around for a view. The man rumbled an affirmative noise as he gently corralled the piglet who was attempting to escape out the van to greet them.

“Aww, it's adorable! Were you guys at the vet then?” Lúcio pried. Jamie was amazed, and annoyed, by how quickly Lúcio had regained composure to speak directly with the customer he was tormenting Jamie about mere minutes ago. Jamie was pretty sure his face was still red from the teasing.

“Yup,” the man said simply. “Shots.” Jamie felt Lúcio melt beside him, and Hana shoved her way over on his other side. She reached her hand out the window and, looking at the customer, got a quick nod from him. Despite her complaints about the man’s attitude, she seemed to know how to speak his silent language. Hana squealed happily as she pet its nose with her finger, and showered the piglet in compliments. 

Jamie took the moment to hand out the croissant, suddenly hoping the coworker distraction would make the man forget his earlier embarrassment. It didn't. He flushed all the way up to his ears as those reflective sunglasses turned his way, and he could swear he saw the man smirking behind the mask. 

He handed out the drink next, tiny, and what a weaker man might call heartbreakingly adorable in those large hands. The man took the lid off immediately and saw Hana’s signature bunny face done in mocha drizzle resting on top of the whip. He looked back out the window at the group. “Thanks,” he mumbled, raising the cup to them.

“Bring piggy to visit us again soon!” Hana waved her own arm, and grabbed Jamie’s and waved his too, while his other hand was brought firmly to his still red face. With one large hand cupped around the tiny piglet, the man drove steadily away.

Gabriel walked over, sipping at his black coffee. “Didn't know you were into old men, Jamison. If this doesn't pan out, I know a few other forty year olds you might like.” 

“Oh, shut yer fuckin’ trap, Gabby.” 

 

\-----  
(V´・(oo)・｀V)  
\-----

Mako picked up the pig and carried her inside, clutched to his chest. The little wet nose nuzzled and prodded and gave him a feeling of calm after a rather stressful outing. He brought the delightedly happy little pig to his face and gave it a kiss on the nose and a scratch on the head before setting her down and preparing her dinner. She still didn't have a name, but Mako was always terrible at names. He figured it would come to him eventually. 

The rush of attention at the coffee shop left him breathless and wracked with worries. He often wondered when casual conversation had become a source of stress to him. Mako’s job required that he ‘talk’ to quite a few people, but there was always something easier to him knowing that his conversations at work could be solved with beating someone to a pulp. He supposed after decades of those kinds of interactions normal conversation would be foreign to anyone. He ran his fingers through his hair and carefully sat down on a hard, old kitchen chair while the piglet happily devoured her dinner. 

The jittery blond man was obviously embarrassed the way he misspoke, but Mako had found it so funny he couldn't let it go. He hoped he hadn't upset the kid, but from the shade his face had turned Mako was pretty sure the barista would still be throwing a fit this very minute. More than that, he had hoped he hadn't scared him. It was an unfamiliar feeling to Mako.

Another thing Mako couldn’t get over was the nagging feeling that he had seen the blond barista somewhere before, and enough times that the face had become familiar to him. The familiarity of the face and mannerisms had him replaying the scene almost nonstop. He managed to collect a bit of information about the group at the window. Name tags told him that the girl was named Hana, and the short one was named Lúcio, but the blond didn't wear a name tag. Mako's brow furrowed in frustration at the memory. Maybe if he had a name…. He tossed the idea aside. If the guy had a name Mako knew, it wouldn't have been a real name, and it definitely wouldn't be a name you put down on a Kofi Aromo application.

Instead he began turning over the question of the man's age for some sort of identification. From some angles he looked at least thirty, but the hint of naivety weakly covered with a sense of authority made Mako think he had to be in his twenties. If he was in his thirties it made the task more difficult. There were about a million places Mako could have seen or met the man, but if he were in his twenties Mako would have surely known him from within the past few years. If he were in his twenties, Mako couldn't begin to comprehend how he had gotten a job at a coffee chain. 

Not being able to place where he could have possibly met or seen the kid was beginning to piss him off. His brain switched gears- but not for the better. 

His first trip to the coffee shop and he had already made a scene. At least three people would remember him, and more than likely attempt conversation. Mako buried his face in his hands and groaned. He didn't think he could handle that, but the location was convenient and the hot chocolate was good. There was a possibility he could deal with unwanted attention for the sake of convenience. Maybe he could look at it as skill building. He had a few vague hopes of living a somewhat peaceful life in his old age, and this could be good practice at being ‘normal’.

His pig chose that moment to run towards him at full speed with hooves clacking on the tile and happy squeaks reporting that she had finished her dinner. He lifted her onto his chest, already knowing her habit was to fall into a deep sleep after dinner. 

He was suddenly very glad to have a little distraction like her around. She filled a void that he let get out of control when his old hog had died. He felt more alone than he ever had in his life in the months before he got her, and now here she was trying to make him friends with local baristas. He knows it wasn't just his pet dying that had led to his isolation. He had isolated himself long ago, and only realized it when there was no one left. 

The feeling of self pity was quickly replaced with disgust. He needed to stop before he got in too deep with his emotions. Instead of continuing to dwell, he carried out his nightly routine. Shutting the lights out one by one in his small home. Dreary, cluttered rooms shut out of his mind as each light was clicked off. He couldn't think about dinner for himself tonight. He placed the now cooled chocolate croissant on the kitchen table, knowing it wouldn't be good the next day, and carried himself and his piglet off to bed.


	2. Mocha with an extra shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey. I wrote this a while ago and I think I'll just go ahead and post it! Looks good to me!

It was his day off, but Jamie was sitting in the café regardless. Partially because he was studying on Reyes’ laptop all afternoon, but also because he was hoping that man would be by again around the same time he was the night before. Customers almost always made Kofi Aromo a routine stop in their days, and Jamie was hoping he'd get lucky. 

Although he was pretty positive he was just getting his hopes up, sitting around at Kofi Aromo all day was his best bet at a mentally steady day. It felt like one of those nights where he was gonna do something real stupid if he were left to his own devices. He didn't want to break his longest running streak of good behavior. Instead he sat at a stool overlooking the bar, separated by a tall pane of glass, and fiddled with scraps and stir sticks. 

He lazily watched as Lena darted back and forth on bar. He was mildly jealous of her speed and accuracy. Jamie was a complete disaster in comparison, and left the place looking like a tornado came through. Just another item to his list of ‘things Jamison Fawkes is bad at’. He added a few more broken stir sticks and straw wrappers to the top of his tower, now deliberately creating an unstable design.

“Oi, luv, you’re long done with your studying for the day, are gonna sit there and mope for the rest of the night?”

“I ain't mopin’! ‘M tinkering, alright?” Lena merely glanced at his little tower made of garbage before sending him a concerned look. 

“Don't mean to hit a sore spot, but what're your mates doin’ while you're sittin’ around in here?”

Jamie deflated onto the counter, and with one swift flick, sent his garbage tower toppling to pieces. “They've got stuff goin’ on. Doesn't bother me. I mean... I can't spend every waking moment of their lives with ‘em, can I?” He also found the familiar sounds of Kofi Aromo to be rather soothing, and being surrounded by coworkers going about their daily tasks to be much more entertaining than drudging about on his own. He really didn't like sitting around his shack all day. It was part of the reason he downgraded from an apartment to squatting in an abandoned shed. Why pay rent for a place you're always trying to escape? Plus the shed gave him the perfect excuse to store loads of appropriated junk. He just had to be careful to not mention it around Gabe. 

He looked up as Gabriel walked out of the back room with papers and an ever present black coffee in hand. He knew he'd never hear the end of it if Gabe found out he had left his apartment to squat in some abandoned death trap. Though, to be fair, Jamie had made precautions to make the place even more of a death trap for his protection. And for fun. After he was finished with it the place looked it was ripped straight out of a horror film, but it felt like home to him. Much more than his shitty apartment ever did.

Gabriel took a seat next to Jamie, brushing straw wrappers aside and placing his inventory papers down on the counter. “Ana is opening tomorrow,” he said to Lena, “so the place better be spotless.

“Wouldn't leave the boss with anything less than my best!” She chirped. 

Gabe rolled his eyes. “You're such an ass kisser.” 

“Only because she deserves it! My last store manager was a nightmare.” Gabe smirked at that, and Jamie recalled then that Gabriel had been Lena’s last store manager. Jamie raised an eyebrow and listened carefully for gossip to unfold. None did. He knew that whatever happened resulted in Gabriel stepping down to a shift manager, and Jack resigning. Ana had taken over in place of Gabriel and the drama seemed to settle after she took charge.

The story was always dropped in tantalizing snippets that never had much information, and the constant dancing around the facts mostly just left Jamie annoyed. Which he expressed with an unabashed scoff. 

“Sorry, mijo, didn't mean to make you feel left out.” Gabriel cooed mockingly, but Jamie’s chest still tightened at the nickname. A feeling of sentimentality which he immediately had to cover with insults.

“Save your endearments for McCree. That shit doesn't work on me, mate.” he sneered. “I don't need to know, or care to know nothin’.” He pushed himself off of the bar stool, quickly realizing he just made himself sound more jealous and petty than he had intended. Always digging his own grave. 

“Have a lovely night, Jamison.” Gabriel called, practically goading after Jamie’s diffused outburst, and it felt like he was being challenged by the man. He knew it was all paranoia, but it fucked with his emotions enough to make his temper flare.

“Oh, my night’ll be a blast, Gabby, you can bet on it.” Jamison yelled, knowing the double meaning would spark some concern in Gabe. He walked swiftly out of the building, wrenching the door open stomping out to the brisk night. He barely caught a glimpse of Gabriel spinning around after him in the reflection of the windows. He giggled to himself, satisfied to have wiped the smugness off Gabe’s face, and especially happy to have gotten the last word in. His burst of happiness died quickly, and his laugh was cut into an angry groan. He was positive Gabe would be pissed off at him for a while for his overdramatics. He never really won these kinds of arguments. 

His train of thought was suddenly overloaded with the ridiculously loud thunder of a motorcycle. The thing was so loud he felt it reverberate through his whole body before the bright headlight had him struck still at the curb. He was on edge already, and the entrance this guy was making to a little coffee shop late at night made Jamie see red. Go time.

“Well, that's a fine ‘how-do-ya-do’!” He squawked as soon as the man killed the engine, and stomped over to instigate a fight. He stopped short as the man rose to his feet, towering over Jamison by a good foot, and he had to be at least three times as wide. Jamie knew immediately it was the man from the previous night, and his foul mood flew right out the door. 

“Scare ya?” The man chuckled through his sick mask. 

“You sure did, mate!” All of the tension Jamie seemed to have had burst out of him in a fit of giggles. “You back for more?”

The man grunted. “Got a late night. Need some caffeine.” 

“Wait-wait-wait! Let me guess,” Jamie waved his arms dramatically to emphasise his exclamations. “You're gonna get a mocha. Extra shot maybe?” He raised an eyebrow, but he was pretty certain the expression was lost to the dimly lit parking lot. 

The man seemed amused. “Wasn't sure, actually. Don't usually go to these places.”

Jamie was delighted. He was going to make this man a regular even if it killed him. “Well, if you liked that hot chocolate enough to come back for round two, I'd definitely suggest the mocha!” Jamie always managed to find something to say, but the near silence about the man made him nervous that he would slip out of his reach. The thought of missing his chance made him a jittery and rushed with adrenaline. 

Jamie marveled at how relaxed the man looked. Shoulders slumped, a casual pose, and a complete air of ease about him. Completely different than how he was. Everything about Jamie screamed ‘I'm a nervous wreck ready to jump out of my shoes at any second’. But the calm and tolerant silence of the other man encouraged a bit of confidence in Jamie.

“What’s your name, mate? Gotta know what to write on your cup next time I see ya.” For a gut wrenching moment the man paused, blatantly speculative. Jamie immediately felt vulnerable to the scrutiny. 

“Aren'tcha supposed to start introductions with your own name?” he huffed out a rattling cough.

Jamie let out a nervous giggle. He clearly didn't do introductions very well. He cleared his throat, and began again. This time he slipped into a theatrical persona to help him through the awkwardness of the formality. “Pardon me manners!” he said with a twirling hand movement that released into a signal for a handshake, and a dramatic bow that made him look like a court jester. “My name is Jamison Fawkes, and it is an absolute pleasure ta’ make your acquaintance, Mr.?”

“Smartass.” The man snorted. Jamie yanked his hand to his chest in mock surprise. 

“Surely that ain't your name, you poor bastard!” After having his laugh, he extend his arm back out again in earnest. This time the handshake was accepted. 

“Mako Rutledge.”

\-----

Gabriel snarled as he stared out the window. He recognized that motorcycle, and he did not want Jamison’s interactions to continue… or escalate. “Lena,” he barked, “make Jamie a drink and run it out. Quickly.” A challenge she'd surely jump to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! Hope ya stay tuned for more on the blossoming friendship and partnership between hog and rat. Fluff, action, romance, hurt/comfort, and espresso are honestly my JAM.


End file.
